Three Days
by JazzMind
Summary: After a really looong break, here is another chapter of Three Days. Slightly less sensical than it's forerunners, and worsely written if possible.
1. I'm Sorry

This is the first part of Three Days. I changed it a little... I couldn't help it. Even so, it's probably recognizable.  
  
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Kate Barem sighed energetically, cursed at a holo-cube, and continued packing her multitude of possessions into a *tiny!* Starfleet-issue duffel bag so that refugees could take her room. *You'd think they'd be satisfied with the Mess Hall and Sickbay* she thought, and regretted it. They were so _thin_!  
  
The real problem was where she was going to sleep now. It was likely she would end up on someone's floor. She knew that both First Officer Chakotay and Captain Janeway had already given up their private quarters to the seemingly endless flow of refugees that Voyager was transporting to the next star-system over. Now the two highest-renking officers on the ship were sleeping on the Ready Room floor. Kate smiled. The Captain had been looking very happy recently, and no one had been summoned into the ready room since the change.  
  
~*~  
  
Kate stared at Captain Janeway in shock.  
  
"I'm what?" *What is she _thinking?_ Putting me in my commanding officers' quarters...*  
  
"I know that putting you in the commander's quarters may not be the most comfortable thing for either of you, but everywhere else is full. It's just until we can drop off the refugees. Then everything on the ship will get back to normal." (A/N: Riiiight. Things on this ship will never be normal again...)  
  
~*~  
  
Just out of curiosity, Kate asked, "How many refugees are you replacing me with?"  
  
"Fourteen." The Captain's voice was angry and sad.  
  
Kate started; she had never heard her captain talk in that tone of voice. *How would they fit?* And then, *Oh, God, she's blaming herself for all of this.*  
  
"...Ah."  
  
Janeway seemed to be extraordinarily angry at her desk. "Dismissed."  
  
Kate was torn. She was normally friends with her captain... but friendship only went so far. "Kathryn... it's not your fault." She waited a moment, then turned to go.  
  
From behinds her came a voice, sad and softly. "Thank you, ensign."  
  
On the threshold, Kate barely paused. "Ensign" had been a dismissal. It was a thanks to a friend, but a dismissal to a subordinate. She stepped out onto the Bridge.  
  
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Can anyone guess who the superior officer is? And I may have gotten the rank wrong. Oh, and Roneth, don't tell. (Grins evilly) Oh, and disclaimer: They aren't mine, I just want to borrow them. I'll return them to the address on the package, hopefully alive and still sane. If not. hey, they won't mind. 


	2. So Not Happening

Of course it's a little different. It always is.  
  
This is short... but the next, in my opinion, is the best scene in the thing. It's called suspense.  
  
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Kate steps out onto the Bridge.  
  
*Remind me never to become Captain.* She looks up towards the tactical station where Tuvok stands, running (yet another) drill. *This is such a dangerous quadrant... Thank God we have him with us.*  
  
Tuvok glanced at the ensign emerging from the Captain's ready Room briefly, apparently just to make sure she wasn't some invading space alien who had just eaten the Captain.  
  
Kate nodded at him civilly in acknowledgement, but he had already turned back to his station. As she walked to the turbolift, a flush of unreasoning anger hit her. *So it's going to be that way, huh? You're going to ignore me and treat me like a piece of mobile furniture for the next month? Even for a Vulcan, that's rude.*  
  
And, in a different part of her mind than the one that thinks about regulations and status reports, a thought emerges. *He is so not going to get away with this.*  
  
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I have the next chapter uploaded. It's in the "Document Manager" thing right now, all nice and ready for me to click that "Create Chapters" thing and give it to you. I am annoyed because I have almost no reviews. Total. The next chapter is under ransom until I get at least one review from someone on this dratted site I have never heard of before. So, go find me one! And review while you're at it, too. 


	3. Hello, Commander!

Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Star Trek. Which means that this is fanfic, born and raised. *Laughs at mental image of Vulcan baby with pacifier*  
  
I decided to upgrade it to PG-13 for this chapter, just for the heck of it.  
  
Oh, and I kept the page break. You'll get it when you see it.  
  
I changed tiny things, like bits of dialogue, you know... Added a few bits of innuendo that I missed putting in the first time. Nothing major.  
  
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Kate paused outside the door to Commander Tuvok's quarters and tapped on the door padd. She couldn't hear the faint chime inside, but she knew it was there. *I think I'm too tired to hear straight. Even if it isn't in some insanely supersonic pitch.* On the other hand, she knew (if she had been capable of thinking straight) that officers' quarters were soundproof.  
  
After a short pause, the door slid open, revealing Commander Tuvok. In white cotton pajama pants. the golden light of a desk lamp highlighted his dark skin and one sharply pointed ear. The lamp was the sole source of light. It sat on a table in the middle of the main room, illuminating three pads and an unholily high pile of paperwork on the desk.  
  
On the far wall, two dark rectangles proclaimed what Kate knew were probably a bedroom and bathroom. If she had been capable of coherent thought, she might have been impressed at the size of the accommodations.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Kate stood in the doorway for a moment before she could get her voice to work. "Ah..."  
  
"Oh. Come in, Ensign." He tapped a panel and a small light went on, showing a shadowy form along the right wall to be a couch. He turned and went back to the desk, immediately bending over one of the padds Just, Kate thought, as he had been, probably for hours. Totally unconcerned about the new piece of useless backdrop that had just delivered himself to his door.  
  
She saw a standard pillow and blanket lay neatly at one end of the couch. She dropped her bag at one end of the couch, fluffed out the pillow, stuck out her tongue at his oblivious back, kicked off her shoes, and collapsed on the couch, bleary-eyed with fatigue. It had been a long day.  
  
~*~  
  
*Oh God, that was a long night. Doesn't he _ever_ get tired?* (author dies laughing)  
  
Kate had fallen asleep in the early hours of the morning to the sound of fingers tapping on a padd. She only guessed that he had gone to sleep because he was no longer at the desk. Kate picked a uniform out of her bag and went to go shower. She had looked at his shift schedule, and knew that he had first shift today. She had third.  
  
Stepping into the shower, she wondered idly how the shift patterns were designed; they were utterly insane, while still allowing for rest and sleep. Well, most of the time. The shower made her feel slightly more awake. Slightly. It took willpower to drag herself away from the warm water. She wrapped a towel around herself and shivered slightly in the cool air. *I thought it was _warm_ on Vulcan.*  
  
She had forgotten her clothes on the table. *Oh, shit.* Well, there was nothing for it. She would have to go get dressed and hope that he didn't wake up. *Yeah, like that's real likely.* He couldn't have gotten any more sleep than she had, and that felt a lot like zip. In passing, she peeked through the *Open?* door of his bedroom. He looked much less dignified asleep than awake. *Damn, that's a big bed.*  
  
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I think the _world_ can see where this is going. But don't worry... I haven't abandoned the title. They're going to die a little each day, and then they get to celebrate Hanukah. (Sorry. It's late at night and I'm happy because I finally got my bloody LAMC ID. It makes me look like a high raccoon because I had to wake up at a truly insane hour to get it done.)  
  
The next chapter is the Engineering scene. Poor Kate.  
  
Did you like it? Review! I am not posting the next chapter until I get a decent amount of reviews. Finis. 


	4. Did Someone Keep You Up?

This is the Engineering scene. The one where Kate turns interesting colors.  
  
And yes, I know it became a bit longer, and that the addition doesn't really do anything... I just wanted to emphasize that, due to my rather odd relationship with Maria, Anaheit, and Kate, this is neither a Mary Sue nor anything else named by sane and righteous people.  
  
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Kate enters Engineering looking about how she feels.  
  
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Emerging from the turbolift, Kate stifles a yawn, stares blearily at a panel, runs some diagnostics, and nods at her superior officer.  
  
"You look half dead, Kate." Slyly, because she knows that Kate is sharing someone's room, but not whose. "Did someone keep you up?"  
  
Kate gives her a look that eloquently declares "I want to bite your head off and I'm not allowed to. And if that was the only thing stopping me, you would be bleeding by now."  
  
Tom walks in, absently pecks his wife on the cheek, and stares unbelievingly at Kate. "You're sharing a room with _Tuvok?_"  
  
The tired ensign blushes a bit at B'Elanna's questioning look.  
  
"_No!_ B'Ela-na!" She sighs as Tom protests.  
  
"But he said..."  
  
"No. Yes, I am sharing a room with Commander Tuvok. No, B'Elanna is annoying."  
  
Somewhat incoherently, Kate thinks, *That made an amazing amount of sense, actually. I wonder if anyone else in the room understood it?*  
  
B'Elanna sighs. Tom is just confused. And Kate is desperately wishing for some coffee.  
  
Bypassing his confusion, Tom puts forth, "Well, I talked to Tuvok in the Mess Hall."  
  
B'Elanna is randomly interested. "And?"  
  
"He thinks that Ensign Barem here," a hand on the shoulder, "is the nearest thing to a tolerable roommate on the ship."  
  
Kate is exasperated as B'Elanna smirks again.  
  
"Not in as many words, of course."  
  
Kate makes an inquiring noise. Or maybe that was a snore.  
  
"...Well, actually, he said 'The situation is... tolerable.' " Mistaking her glazed eyes for confusion, he hurries to explain "That's good."  
  
"Ah." Kate looks at the scans, and becomes awake. "Oh, shit. Warp cores are not supposed to do that." *I hope.*  
  
In the ensuing confusion, Tom slips back to the Bridge, Lt.Cmdr Torres becomes (rather traditionally) covered in soot (where does it _come_ from?) and Ensign Barem hands various people hydrospanners. They then save the day and let her run more (non-intelligence-requiring) scans. It all works out.  
  
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That was short! Even with more added, I remember it as being longer when I wrote it. Maybe it was just that _Roneth_ snatched it out of my hands every five words or so. LASFS is good for you. Or rather for her, because I'm stuck at home, bored witless.  
  
Anyway, the next will appear as soon as I get a few reviews on this one. For those of you who have never seen this story before (and those who don't remember it or have never seen the complete,) the next involves a late evening, Geometrics work, and the following morning. Break out the gift wrapping... I might have to change the rating. 


	5. Innuendo and a Surprise

Here lies Chapter Five, in which there is an argument and people invent a joke called Good Morning.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anything involving Star Trek. When I'm done, Paramount may not want to, either.  
  
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That night, Ensign Kate Barem walks into the rooms to see Tuvok at that ^$# desk. He doesn't look up. She drops the padd that Tom gave her, titled Coexisting with Vulcans, on a low Starfleet-ebony table. *Didn't know Starfleet made coffee tables.* Exchanging her soft ship boots for even more comfortable (and unregulation, which is the point) slippers, she walks over to the desk. And if there is a bit of a lilt in the walk, her subconscious is the same as other women's, and doesn't really get the lines she has (multiple times in the past day) laid out for it, involving "officer" and "no."  
  
From a distance suitable between ensign and ranking officer, and a posture that is slightly not, she can see little of what is on the padd in front of him. "What are you doing?" *Can I sit in your lap?*  
  
"Geometrics homework."  
  
*?* "Can I help?"  
  
"I am teaching the class."  
  
*I knew that.* Sigh. Well, she's not really that tired, and boredom has never been a prospect she liked very much. I mean, why else to join Starfleet? "In that case, can I brush up on my spatials?"  
  
"If you wish." He pushes a padd across the desk to her, a clear invitation to sit on the other side of the desk. He is a bit stilted, (yes, I know he's a Vulcan, but even so) because one, she is attractive, and two she is obviously attracted to him. However, she seems to be doing an unusualy good job of covering it.  
  
*It is the third, really. Uncommon, if pleasant*  
  
Three, she was being polite, respectful, not in the all overawed, and clearly capable of the equations she was peering at. As well as not obviously trying to seduce him. Which, to the man actually voted "Most Wanted Man" by the female crew in one of Mr. Neelix's *irritating!* morale- building activities, was a welcome change.  
  
(Not _obviously,_ you poor Vulcan.)  
  
It is good that Vulcans are not overly susceptible to inordinate inflation of the ego.  
  
~*~  
  
From the other side of a wide desk, Kate sometimes questions him on a problem. The gray expanse is wide enough that both have to partially rise in order to see the problem at once. After a certain amount of this, Kate moves her chair to a position still not near her commander, but much more convenient, on the adjacent side to the one on which Tuvok is sitting. This goes on for a while, and they talk on minor things as they work. They also think.  
  
*This is pleasant. I was correct in my words to Ensign Paris this morning.*  
  
*I never thought I'd be doing math problems for fun...*  
  
*Perhaps she would be interested in teaching the class next semester. She seems quite capable.*  
  
*I wonder what teaching a class would be like?*  
  
*No... I have no reason to be unkind to her. Some of the students could be abusive to a teacher of her rank.*  
  
*It might be interesting.*  
  
~*~  
  
It was late at night. Over the hours, their chairs had moved by millimeters at a time until, for convenience's sake, they were side-to-side. It was the early hours of the morning, and even Vulcans need... sleep. (coughs)  
  
Tuvok, alerted to the hour by his roommate's yawn, glanced at the clock. An eyebrow raised. "It is late. You shift begins in only four hours... You should go to bed, Ensign."  
  
Kate has been teasing him all night for her own personal enjoyment, because he hasn't really seemed to notice. Why stop now? "Time flies when you're having fun." Sitting that close together, yeah, it's definitely meant to embarrass him.  
  
"That as may be, Ensign, but humans require much more sleep than you will get tonight."  
  
*Ooh. And you thought he didn't notice, did you? A little of my own medicine back, here.*  
  
Or maybe he was innocent. One way to find out. Quizzically, "...Sleep?"  
  
*That was definitely a blush.*  
  
She's been doing this all night. Poor Vulcan. Who can blame him for finally trying to get a little of his own back?  
  
Suggestively, "Yes... sleep." With sleep not really standing for sleep. After a moment of green-faced Vulcan and slightly sunburned human, he rephrases himself.  
  
Rising, he says, "You should retire." He beats a strategic retreat.  
  
~*~  
  
In the safety of his quarters, Tuvok's flush gradually fades. *Saying that was highly illogical.* Although seeing her flush, after an evening of his own, was highly pleasant. On that note, he composed himself and immediately dropped off to whatever section of unconsciousness involves Vulcan sugarplums. (cough cough)  
  
~*~  
  
The next morning, the vagaries of shift assignment dictated that Tuvok woke up first. He showered, dressed, and went to go get breakfast in the Mess Hall. He paused for a moment by the couch.  
  
Kate woke up at that exact moment, probably for the one and only purpose of further confusing and embarrassing him.  
  
"What, you weren't even going to say good morning?" Sitting up, she holds out her arms as if for a hug.  
  
Raising his eyebrows, he makes the obvious reply. "You were asleep."  
  
"You were rude."  
  
"Given my understanding of human culture, I believe that waking you would have been considered a greater rudeness."  
  
_That_ annoyed her. "Oh, stop it with your Vulcan ego and 'human culture' disclaimers. They're illogical."  
  
"Excuse me?" Tuvok has been halted in his tracks, and Kate is just lounging on the couch, teasing him, secure in her invulnerability to logic.  
  
" 'Human customs' are perfectly well known to you. Stop- mmm." She broke off because her mouth had just become otherwise occupied.  
  
Tuvok, much to both his own and Kate's extreme surprise, had leaned down and kissed her. Withdrawing, they each stare at the other in something akin to shock.  
  
*I did not just do that.*  
  
*Wha... ??*  
  
Tuvok broke the gaze first. "Shh." He turned and walked out the door.  
  
Behind him, Kate is (1) in shock, (2) completely confused, and (3) trying to figure out how a Vulcan can be such a good kisser.  
  
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No comment. Please. Yes, I know, OOC. But not as horribly as he could be... riight, never mind.  
  
Just a note to the world: I should _not_ be writing this right now. Because have I mentioned the ow? The pain? The oh-shit-what is going _on?_ Happy extremely confusing V day. If I could find my poetry, I'd tell you to go read it. 


	6. Thud and Lavender

This is the sixth of Three Days. I apologize for how long it's taking me to post a story I already have written; but that might be the reason! Anywayz, here's a little more.  
  
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Once outside 'his' quarters, Tuvok, with a typical Vulcanly impassable expression covering his internal confusion, walked to the bulkhead across from the door (which, with a machine-like precision that he could not at the moment imitate, closed behind him) and rested his head against it's cool surface. Experimentally, he knocked his head against it, twice. He had seen it done by first officer Chakotay, by helmsman Tom Paris, and even occasionally by the captain. It seemed particularly useless, but one could never know. *Illogical. I shall proceed to the Mess Hall.*  
  
Entering the Mess Hall, Tuvok steps over a pile of unconscious refugees and is greeted by Neelix, Voyager's ambassador, guide, and cook  
  
The Talaxian does not lower his voice a decibel from his usual cheerful shout, but none of the refugees even stir and Tuvok decides that perhaps they are used to it by now, the sixth day of the evacuation effort.  
  
"Ah, Commander! I've made some delicious Vulcan coffee just for you! ...horrid stuff." He trails off. "Mr. Vulcan ,why are you so green? Should I call Sickbay?" he reaches for the commander as if to steady him.  
  
Tuvok steps back hurriedly. "I do not drink coffee. I am sure that your observation of my facial coloring is a trick of the light."  
  
"Oh, whatever." Neelix waves distractedly at the piles of refugees on the floor. "Where am I supposed to _put_ them all! My hospitality is suffering!"  
  
Normally, Tuvok would have said something calming and logical to shut Neelix up. At the moment, however, he is highly occupied and says nothing. Neelix goes bubbling on.  
  
"Don't you think so, Mr. Vulcan? I mean, normally I'd have all sort of delicacies on hand to offer you, but I just have plomeek soup, and milk, and bread, and caviar, which is raw fish eggs, Mr. Vulcan..." Tuvok inwardly winces a little at that- Vulcans are, by choice, a species of vegetarians.  
  
"No. Soup will be fine, thank you." In the background, Neelix natters on. The commander sips his soup and stares bemusedly at the glass of lavender milk that accompanied it.  
  
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Short, I know. I have plenty more, but I just want to go read my new book and watch Enterprise. I keep on missing it on Wednesdays.  
  
Review! Even though there's not much to do it on. Sorry! ... 


	7. Whatever That Meant

I haven't posted a new chapter of this thing for about a month, not because I didn't want to, but because... well, actually, never mind. Geometrics is a cross between astronomy, navigation, and obviously, geometry. Sort of 3D graphics; the ultimate application of calculus.  
  
It's from exactly where it left off, so on we go.  
  
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On the bridge, Tuvok acts normally, but the closer to the end of the shift, the tenser he became. The rest of the Bridge crew began to shoot him nervous glances. At then minutes to go, her stood up and paced the back of the bridge. Harry kin cleared his throat nervously in the unusual stillness. Even flyboy navigator Tom Paris checked his controls. The Captain called for a status report from Astrometrics. And then, for the first time in Starfleet history, Tuvok locked up his board and yielded his station to his replacement with the rest of the alpha shift. Mouths hung open all over the Bridge as he stood, on time to the second.  
  
Tuvok reached his quarters to find Kate not in sight. Hearing the shower, he was removing his uniform in preparation for sleep when the sound of running water stopped.  
  
Obviously having no idea that her commanding officer was in the room, Kate stepped out, still adjusting a towel around her hair.  
  
~~  
  
Let me rephrase that. Her towel is around her hair. The rest of her is dripping. Tuvok was just unbuttoning his- yeah, I don't really have to say it, do I.  
  
~~  
  
"Uh... hi. I didn't hear you come in." She hastily retreats into the bathroom, emerging with another towel wrapped around her body.  
  
Tuvok took the opportunity to button his pants, although he is still shirtless. "I seem to be... early."  
  
Kate said, wryly, "Indeed."  
  
They are about five feet apart. Tuvok steps forward but does not touch her. "This morning..." He trails off, unsure.  
  
"Did not happen for any logical reason."  
  
"Precisely."  
  
~~  
  
Whatever _that_ meant.  
  
~~  
  
Kate retrieves her clothes and goes into the bathroom to dress. Tuvok takes the opportunity to pull on a tunic. They claim opposite sides of the large desk and begin filling out reports. They sit next to each other to do the Geometrics work; they talk a while. Finally:  
  
"Good night, Kate." He leans over her a little to douse the lamp. Now there is just starglow and the light from his bedroom.  
  
"Good night." She leans into the arm neither of the remember him placing around her.  
  
They both rise to answer the door buzzer. Tuvok, in his white pajama pants and black uniform undershirt, answers the door. Kate, wearing a blue pajama outfit, is carefully reading a book on the couch.  
  
Neelix's smiling face invites both of them to try Andorian coffee.  
  
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You are about to kill me. I don't blame you a bit. That was badly written, not even deserving of a PG-13, absolutely stupid ick. And there's probably a typo or two in there, too. Well, TELL ME HOW TO FIX IT, WILL YOU??? _I_ obviously don't know. What do you bloody want? _I_ want a beta. _You_ want a story.  
  
To prove there actually _is_ a next chapter, here's a preview.  
  
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There was one telepath on Voyager. She was Marquis and she was going to be killed an an away mission, and no one knew or would know. She stared strangely as Tuvok passed.  
  
*Whaa?? Oh my god. I did not just hear that.*  
  
(Different preview: chapter nine, I think)  
  
Starfleet people generally have good teeth. They also have good gums, tonsils, and esophagi.  
  
-Some incredibly hard [geometrics] problem that is patiently impossible-  
  
*Oh, good.* someone thought. *Maybe the ship hasn't fallen apart, after all.*  
  
(About chapter ten:)  
  
Math problems are not inherently romantic. They managed.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Okay. For those of you who don't know, this is the story of Kate, Tuvok, and eventually Maria. It will, eventually, have Kate end up on Denlaria, Tuvok back on Vulcan and in the So Deal With It universe, and Maria will go get her wings. I'll post So Deal With It before I get to that point in this story, and I'll tell you when it's up.  
  
Now you know, in general terms, what is going to happen. But I never told you the ending of _this_ story. No, Roneth, not even you know exactly. So maybe you should keep reading!  
  
Press that nice "review" button, will you? Yes, you should feel guilty. If you want more, well, motivation helps. :) 


	8. Layers of Revelations

Yes, I know, it's been at least a month, maybe more than one of them, since I've written _anything,_ anything at all. And I managed to loose the hardcopy, so this is spontaneous. I was really hoping to just stick to the original and save it the tired literary sadism that has happened when I write for the last year. Or so. But humor isn't as difficult for me as it has proven itself to be for the majority of my acquaintances this past month...  
  
In other words, here goes.  
  
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"Neelix," Kate said, "Do you know what _time_ it is?" She sighed. "Never mind. Yes, I would adore some coffee." She turned to Tuvok. "Et tu?"  
  
Lt.Cmdr. Tuvok raised one eyebrow. "No thank you, Mr. Neelix. I believe not."  
  
The cheerfully bouncy Neelix sighs. "Ah well." He peers into the darkened room hesitantly. "Ah... do you think I could come in?"  
  
Tuvok barely resisted starting at the touch of a hand on the inside of his forearm. "Ah... of course, Mr. Neelix."  
  
"Yes, make yourself welcome." She gestured at the pot of coffee and poured three cups, laying them out on the table after first shuffling the paperwork to the side. Tuvok had already quietly instructed the computer to light the room. "Would you like something to drink? Sit down."  
  
She touched the edge of a chair briefly, and her roommate drew it closer to the table before seating himself, his darkly haloed hands a stark contrast to the lamplight and Neelix's paleness. His head was in shadow, and the rest of the room, behind him, echoed his darkness.  
  
Kate rested a hand on Neelix's shoulder before she seated herself on a stool pulled from the bathroom. She sipped her coffee, smiling appreciatively at the taste. "I assume you wanted to test it out on someone else but the captain first?"  
  
The Talaxian started. "Ah... er, yes. But-"  
  
She smiled, her heart aching. "I'm glad for the honor. I absolutely must find a steady supply of this stuff." She sipped silently at it for a moment longer before Neelix's troubles could erupt onto her pleasant evening. Th joys of being human, she supposed. And to think she had once scorned the confessional as being a means of driving priests to drink.  
  
"Ah, Miss Kate...?" Neelix twisted uncomfortably in his chair.  
  
She laid a hand in Tuvok's direction, suggesting casual intimacy without the uncomfortable meshing of thoughts she knew that a casual touch could create. "What's wrong, Neelix? Tell all." Her smile was half-hidden by the glazed blue coffee mug she held in both (ringless) hands.  
  
His words unstopped, they poured out in an incomprehensible torrent. "Well, you see- she's just so absolutely _impossible_ to get bear... and then they have absolutely no trouble... and I haven't even the faintest idea what she eats- and then there's the whole refugee situation, of course, and I haven't the faintest idea what to do, so naturally I forget everything and just try to feed the ship and then she comes crying, and I take the poor thing to the doctor, and but he has to treat all those poor thin refugees and then one of them _has_ to just wake up screaming, and the poor thing just goes running, and-"  
  
She raised a hand. "Neelix." She raised an eyebrow. "Again. And try to use names this time." At his blanch, she sighed. "or at least species indicators. It's all right; no one will tell on you." She caught his thought at her bunkmate. She glared impartially at a dust mote. "no one in my vicinity would _dare,_ right?" She conspicuously glared at Tuvok.  
  
"Uh? All right?  
  
The gist of the story turned out to be that some unnamed small girl had picked up a kitten on the last planet they had visited, taken it to Neelix because it seemed ill, and when he had taken it to the Doctor, a refugee had startled it and it had fled. Now it was loose in the bowels of the ship, and both Neelix and the unnamed girl were frantic about it. It was also apparently the source of the purple milk.  
  
Kate winced. There was something in the story that elicited memories of her selhat's behavior before it delivered kittens. She just hoped it wasn't somehow related to a tribble.  
  
"Mr. Neelix, I do not understand why you have not simply requested a scan of the area inside the ship and retrieved the animal."  
  
*And I don't understand why the universe is insisting on being mean to me- us- tonight. But am _I_ complaining? Nooo. Vulcan composure, my ass.*  
  
She waited patiently for Neelix.  
  
He winced as he forced the words. "And... and...I think that. That Seven of Nine is. Ah.  
  
Kate's ears practically crossed in confusion. Tuvok's hands tightened in their meditation knot.  
  
"-Overly affectionate."  
  
?  
  
"Towards Harry Kim."  
  
*Omg. So not seeing that coming. Ah.* her eyebrows seemed to be making a concerted effort to reach deep space. "Ah... ha."  
  
Tuvok merely radiated rather surprised silence.  
  
"Well... is she... are either of them... aware of this?"  
  
"I don't know. I think so. I hope she isn't pregnant."  
  
Kate resisted the urge to bury her head in her hands. It was past midnight. It was past tolerance. Time to be polite. "Would you care for some tea, Mr. Neelix?"  
  
"No thank you, Miss Barem. I think I should be going, now."  
  
"Ah hmm. Yes. I'll take care to the kitten if I can... I'll be around to talk about... the other situation... later, I think. Good night, Mr. Neelix."  
  
When the distressedly short man had departed, she turned to see her commanding officer's face behind her, his expression stone and his countenance devoid of useful hints. Her face again shocked into something approaching calm before his eyebrow raised and he spoke. "I wish to know if this situation occurs in your presence frequently." They did not stop laughing until well after one hundred hours.  
  
~*~  
  
"Kathryn."  
  
"Yes?" She twisted on the couch to see him better, as he was standing behind her. He winced.  
  
"You really could find something slightly less revealing to wear to bed, Ensign."  
  
When she stopped laughing, he gestured for her to rise from the couch. "I do not understand why Mr. Neelix did not simply address his worries to the Captain."  
  
She smiled. He had so much more to learn. "That would make it official. I'm just me."  
  
He frowned., "but will not we be telling the Captain of tonight's occurrences?"  
  
(A/N: yes, you may wince at that one. I put t in for your pained frown, as my friends well know.)  
  
She smiled at this use of words, and drew him down onto the couch with her. "But from you it will be speculation, and me gossip. Neelix would have to actually make sense."  
  
At the thought of the helpless Talaxian's confused monologue, they shared a moment of skepticism before she burst into laughter. He constrained himself to merely patting her on the head. One outburst was far more than enough for tonight. The trick would be to prevent another one, before this forced platonic atmosphere broke.  
  
~*~  
  
There was one telepath on Voyager. She was Marquis and she was a private person, and no one knew or would know. She stared strangely at a door as she passed it.  
  
*Whaa?? Oh my god. I did not just hear that.*  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I have attempted to simply insert a placefiller until I can find my blooming manuscript. I must now go argue violently with a piano.  
  
Good night. 


End file.
